Bobby Goren didn’t know if he should gasp for air or give up and break down. He wanted to laugh about the whole situation but he was afraid he would collapse.

“LEG CURL”

God, and he really had asked for this session.

“KNEES UP!”

Please NOT knees up. Everything but knees up, but Bobby lifted his legs to the beat of a very quick version of Waterloo. He turned slightly his head and watched his partner sweating.

The sessions with Dr. Gyson verified for Bobby that he needed to change something in his life. Maybe not more talking with the psychiatrist even if the mandatory meetings were not as bad as he thought they would be. But he badly wanted to tone his body again. Yes, lately he had kept an eye on his meals. More cooking plus water and less takeout plus soda had helped him lose weight. But Bobby wanted more – not GQ perfection but a few more muscles here and there would be nice. His home treadmill had been broken for years and was covered with dust. Moreover he wanted company and to not be lonely anymore. Wednesday he had asked Eames for suggestions. She had proposed the free NYPD sports program and had invited him to her aerobic workout to try it out.

“STEP TOUCH!”

Phu, the warm up was over. Alex smiled toward him as she toweled her red face. Bobby didn’t try to return the smile, knowing he would totally fail and end up with a grotesque wacko face. Instead he nodded and took a sip of water. Now began the dance part of the hour.

When Eames had talked about her dance aerobic course Bobby became very interested. He loved to dance and combining this with a little cardio would be awesome to get in shape again. He hadn’t expected that only women visited the course and that the trainer would be a post Soviet drill instructor.

“MAMBO!”

The beautiful face, the stomach like a trampoline and a butt to crack walnuts with couldn’t hide the fact that this woman liked to torture her students and there wasn’t only a little cardio.

“CHA CHA!”

But Bobby started to like the mixture of steps, turns and jumps. His arms flew elegantly through the air, his body was energized and he felt good. Even the odd gazes and smirks of the other officers couldn’t dampen his growing fun. He liked the reflection of his moving body in the one wall mirror, how he followed the instructions of the increasing choreography. Now and then he glanced at Eames. Her sweet ponytail flew around her head. She needed to concentrate to remember the right steps but her style was cool more a street dancer than an élève, which also emphasized her beige cargo slacks and the short tank top.

The second part was over in a rush. Bobby felt euphoric but as they picked up their yoga mats, he felt ----- oh, boy. I’m not sure what to do here. Also Alex’s rolling eyes didn’t calm him. 1000 sit ups in 10 different variations, hips up, legs up to tone the butt, belly and legs convinced him that the Russian slave driver liked her job too much.

“THREE SMALL!”

Bobby groaned powerlessly but he wasn’t the only objector. His muscled burned and he was ready to give up. Alex kept up till the end. Bobby always knew that his partner was a fighter and now he realized why all these skittles and cookies hadn’t spread her backside.

The cool down phase was welcomed with a collected gasp of relieve. After another 15 minutes of relaxing and stretching the aerobic course was over. Without a gaze back, slowly Bobby shuffled to the male locker room and took a hot shower to ease his shaking muscles even more.

After the dressing, Alex awaited him in the juice bar of the fitness center. Her wet hair was knotted in a chignon and she wore again her working outfit, a blue low cut sweater and dark jeans. Bobby lowered clumsily next to his partner on a bar stool and dropped his duffle bag. Thankfully he took a big gulp of the offered apple spritzer. In silence they enjoy each other company, observing through the big glass walls the next spinning lesson of their trainer.

“She is…” Bobby groaned.

“Inexorable,” Alex giggled.

“Yeah. How long have you been going to her class?”

“Must be three months now. I wanted a little variety from the usual bums, tums and thighs workout,” Alex answered. “Every Friday I go to the dance aerobic and Tuesday I have a course called boxing aerobic. There you have more arm action and also a few kicks for the legs. The muscle toning part is supported with small barbells.”

“Sounds cool and exhausting.”

“It is. I like the mix of both courses. Kickboxing against fighting suspects and the dance for a better posture. I know I’m rather a boxer than an elegant dancer but the little choreographies are fun.”

“No, you looked great,” Bobby protested.

“But the world lost a ballet dancer with you,” Alex answered, and reached for her shoulder bag and the gym bag.

Outside the fitness center both halted again.

“Do you like another drink to finish the day? Only three blocks west is a nice Jazz bar with great live music,” Bobby suggested.

“I would love to, but you know. It’s my week to check my dad.”

“Oh, okay.”

“I need to buy groceries for him and I bet his living room is a mess. Yesterday the Red Socks played and he invited friends and former colleagues over.”

“All right,” Bobby answered, trying to hide his disappointment. But he couldn’t convince his partner.

“But what do you think about breakfast tomorrow morning? We’re not on-call. There is a new bakery in my neighborhood with so so so delicious scones and pastries. I’ll get the biscuits and make scrambled eggs and you bring the coffee and the newspapers. We make a long brunch in my winter garden or on the terrace.”

“Sounds awesome,” Bobby replied. “I’ll be there around ten?”

“Great.”

Bobby touched Alex lightly on her shoulder and slowly bent deeper. Gently he kissed her right cheek and said good bye. At work they weren’t the feely, touchy, kissy friends, but today after the shared 90 minutes torture it felt right.

Already on her way to subway A, Alex turned again around to wave to Bobby before he reached the next block to his subway to Green Point.

~oOo~

Alex closed her front door with a kick and entered the kitchen, the warm biscuits under her arm. She only needed to make the eggs and set the table for the breakfast with Bobby as her phone rang. She picked up the receiver but only heard a painful groan on the other end of the line.

“Eames…”

“Goren?” Alex already picked up her car keys and the gun, guessing the worst. “What? Where are you?”

“Bed…I can’t move…worst sore muscles ever,” he whispered.

Alex burst out laughing but managed to cover the mouthpiece. She knew too well how she felt after her first lesson with Natasha.

“Stay there. I’ll come over with the breakfast. Give me 30 minutes.”

“Thanks.”

Alex reached Brooklyn in no time and used her spare keys to let herself in Bobby’s apartment, picking up the New York Times of the doorsill. With a big picnic basket, holding an extensive breakfast, she stepped toward his bedroom and knocked carefully against the door frame.

“Come in,” Bobby panted, and Alex entered the cozy den of her partner.

Cause and Effect. Yesterday Bobby was the most elegant dancer in the group, but many muscles groups hadn’t worked in months. Today he was a picture of misery. Under groans of pain he shifted his tall frame to one side of the mattress, making space for his partner.

With few words she spread the bread, pastries, jelly and cheese over the king size bed. The scrambled eggs were inside a thermos box. Alex passed Bobby his paper cup with To Go coffee. But she changed her mind and got porcelain plates and cups from the kitchen.

Alex sat down carefully at the end of the bed, smiling guiltily. “I’m sorry,” she said, buttering a half biscuit.

“No, it’s not your fault. It was all my choice to join the class.”

“The second time won’t be that grueling,” Alex answered, and rummaged in the basket.

Second time? Bobby still didn’t know how to get to work on Monday and Eames was speaking of a second hour of torture.

“Here, this bath salt and the massage oil helped me a lot after my first lesson.” Alex passed two good smelling bottles.